Gilligan's Lament
by authorhasleftsite
Summary: One shot that takes place after the S2 episode, "Beauty Is as Beauty Does." Gilligan regrets not saying how he truly felt.


**AN** : This is the third time this story has been posted, so apologies to anyone who might have read it before it was taken down. In the following narrative Gilligan might appear a little too mature, considering his portrayal on the television show, but this was the first Gilligan's Island story I wrote so hopefully you can cut me some slack. I encourage my readers to point out any diversions from canon in my stories, that way I can correct them.

Also, I am a MAG and Pinger shipper, so heads up to anyone who may not like those pairings. I don't mind if you disagree, but please be polite about it. I'm just a fan of Gilligan's Island who likes these pairings and wishes more had been done with them in canon. I hope you enjoy.

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Gilligan sat forlornly at the end of the runway that had been made for the beauty contest earlier that day. His hands were folded in front of his mouth, and he was staring out into space with a faraway look in his eyes. The entire island was quiet and peaceful. With the birds and the monkeys asleep for the night, the only sound to be heard was the quiet chirping of crickets and the peaceful blow of the night breeze, lulling and serene as it tickled his bangs where they peeked out from under his hat. The palm trees swayed ever so gently to the wind, and every once in while Gilligan could hear the sound of the surf running up the beach, its hands reaching out for the tree line but not making it, and having to withdraw every time.

But these quiet, tranquil sounds did not reflect the way Gilligan was feeling.

After the beauty contest had ended that night, with Gladys being declared the winner, the Skipper, Mr. Howell, and the Professor had escorted three fuming women back to camp, leaving Gilligan by himself. Ginger had been moaning about what her agent would say if he knew she had lost to a gorilla, Mrs. Howell was saying "Really, Thurston, the nerve of that boy!", and Mary Ann wasn't saying much of anything. The men had then come back to look at his notes and discovered they were covered with tic-tac-toe. They had thrown them on the ground in disgust and walked back to camp, leaving the first mate alone with his thoughts and the silence of the jungle.

Gilligan sighed and he looked down at the piece of paper he held in his hand; the paper the rest of the men hadn't seen. The rest of his notes had been covered with tic-tac-toe games he had been playing by himself during the contest, but not this paper. He had been too embarrassed to have them see it, so he had quickly jammed it in his back pocket when he heard them walking up. Now, he took it out again and stared at his handwriting scribbled on it, his face a picture of regret.

 _ **Winnr iz Mary Ann**_

Why hadn't he picked her as the most beautiful in the first place? He had been scared, if he really wanted to admit it. Scared of what the others would say. Scared of what _she_ would say. Ever since he was a boy he'd never been popular with girls, and the last thing he wanted to face was rejection. The fact that he didn't think any girl would want a klutz like him didn't help any. But if he really wanted to be honest with himself he knew he liked, no, was in _love_ with the petite Kansas farm girl. He wasn't quite so sure when it had begun, all he knew was that whenever he would look into her big brown, doe-like eyes he would become all soft and mushy inside. His stomach would do back flips and he would suddenly become nervous and sweaty, and he would be forced to look away before he did something stupid that would earn him a cap swipe from the Skipper. Just the same he loved the feeling, and wanted more than anything to tell her how he felt and plant a soft, gentle kiss on her lips, but, he just couldn't.

That morning when the subject had come up, he had been willing to toast all the ladies as being the most beautiful. If there was anything he had learned from being stranded with these people for little over a year now, was that it was best to stay neutral if you could possibly help it; one against six did not make good odds. He wasn't really surprised when the Skipper had stood up for Ginger; he had noticed his big buddy's attraction to the starlet soon after they had become stranded. Gilligan cracked a small smile as he remembered the time the Skipper had accidentally given him a flower, because he had seen him behind the shower curtain and thought he was Ginger. The look on his face when he realized it wasn't Ginger had sure been funny.

Oh, never mind about that, he mentally chided himself – back to that morning. It had also been no surprise of course when Mr. Howell said that Mrs. Howell was the most beautiful. For all their fights, the Howells were absolutely devoted to each other and Mr. Howell never would've said anything else. So at that point it had been a tie between Ginger and Mrs. Howell. Nobody had bothered to mention Mary Ann yet, and Gilligan had so badly wanted to say what he thought - that _she_ was the most beautiful - but he just couldn't get the words out.

While he was trying to muster up the courage to speak his mind, the Professor suddenly stood up and voiced the opinion himself. Gilligan had been surprised, as he had thought the Professor was more interested in Ginger. After all, he was always doing things for her and requesting her assistance in his lab work. But Gilligan still hadn't thought much of it. He assumed that the Professor was just being gentlemanly, and happily returned the smile that Mary Ann sent in his direction before toasting her as the most beautiful woman on the island, just like he had Ginger and Mrs. Howell.

But then he had had to open his big mouth and suggest having a beauty contest. Everyone had immediately leapt at the idea and since each of the men already had an opinion, Gilligan found himself in the uncomfortable position of having to be judge. He had been jealous of the time the Professor and Mary Ann were spending together preparing for the contest, and thought that if he'd only had the courage to speak his mind _he_ would have been there in the Professor's place. Even though he still wanted to vote for Mary Ann, he quickly decided, after being pressured by each of the men in turn, that he couldn't vote against any of his friends. So he decided to elect Gladys, one of the island's resident apes, as Miss Castaway, which the contest had been aptly named.

Returning to the present, Gilligan shook his head. The contest had been named Miss Castaway and yet he had picked a resident gorilla as winner. He had argued that to win a beauty pageant you had to be a native, but technically, in this particular case, the rule did not apply.

Trust him to take this long to figure that out, the sailor thought bitterly, rising to his feet and crumpling the piece of paper he still held in his hand. He decided to start on his way back to camp, as everyone would most likely be asleep right now and there would have less chance of him running into an angry mob when he got back. It was late and he just wanted to crawl into his hammock and forget this whole mess. If he was lucky, he'd only be in the doghouse for the next couple of days at most.

All was quiet when Gilligan arrived back at camp, except for the sound of the Skipper loudly snoring. Gilligan looked forlornly at the girls' hut where he knew Ginger and Mary Ann were probably already sleeping. Had they talked about him before they went to sleep, and just how angry with him were they?

Gilligan walked over to the fire in the middle of the common area and sat down near it, watching the flames flicker in the darkness of the evening. Little sparks leaped out as the fire crackled and its flames jumped into the air, as if wanting to be set free but was held back by some unseen force. Gilligan had never been poetic but it couldn't help but remind him of his own emotions, held within his heart and begging to be set free, but were being held back by his shyness and low self-confidence.

Slowly uncurling his right fist, he looked at his special note and read it again. He felt another pang of regret and closed his eyes tightly, wishing the feeling would just go away. Then, he slowly ripped up the paper and tossed it gently onto the fire, watching as the pieces were consumed by the flickering flames.

Gilligan mournfully got up and walked to the hut he and the Skipper shared, stopping just for a moment outside to gather his thoughts. Then he took a deep breath and walked in, shutting the door behind him.

Leave a review if you feel so inclined. Godspeed!


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